


Hypothetical

by reliquiaen



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-17
Updated: 2015-08-17
Packaged: 2018-04-15 03:35:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4591458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reliquiaen/pseuds/reliquiaen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You do realise that hypotheticals are always used to conceal something grounded in truth right?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hypothetical

“So, hypothetical for you,” Skye found herself blurting, closing her laptop with its irritating half-written English essay. “It’s for school, yeah?”

“Go for it,” Jemma replied. She kept reading whatever the nonsense was her textbook was feeding her. According to the cover it was something about chemistry and that was all Skye understood.

“So a girl knows this person, right?” she began slowly. “Another girl, someone she is absolutely convinced is straight. Girl One’s taken a shine to Girl Two and feels super awkward about it, because, well, _wow_ , she didn’t see it coming. And also it opens her up for lots of heartbreak and depression and all this. My hypothetical is, if you were Girl One, what would you do about it?”

Jemma looked up, closing her book slowly, a mischievous smile (the kind that made Skye’s head go all fuzzy, her heart beat much too fast and her stomach spin like a top) spreading across her face. Skye did her best not to squirm and ignore her inner discomfort. She also hoped Jemma wouldn’t notice and that she’d get a straight answer. Neither was guaranteed.

“Nothing risked, nothing gained?” her friend offered philosophically. “You do realise that hypotheticals are _always_ used to conceal something grounded in truth right? So who’s got your knickers in a knot?”

Skye huffed. “Okay, first; _no_ , they’re _not_ always used as a cover. And second, no, what are you implying? Stop now.”

Laughter gurgled in Jemma’s throat then and she prodded Skye’s knee with her toes from her side of the room. “Alright, alright. Hypothetical Girl Number One could always just _ask_ you do realise. If she’s _taken a shine_ to Girl Two, why not just ask her out?”

“What if Girl Two is ridiculously amazing? Altogether, much too amazing to even entertain the notion of dating Girl One? What then?”

Jemma tapped her lip. “I’d probably tell Girl One to woman up. That’s her opinion. Maybe Girl Two feels the same way.” She tilted her head to one side. “Skye… do you… like… have some kind of squishy, romantic feelings for another human being?” The tone was light, teasing, but underlying that was a serious question. A question that caused some extra painful thudding of Skye’s heart against her rib cage.

“No,” she tried.

Jemma blinked at her flatly.

“Yes,” she sighed.

At that, Jemma positively beamed. “Look at you sharing things. What makes you think she’s too good for you? I promise, if she feels that you’re not good enough, I’ll punch her in the face.”

Skye tried – and failed – to bite back a strangled laugh. “I would love to see you try. But… see… Jemma, she’s incredible. The most awesome person I know.”

“I was unaware you knew a great many people,” she mumbled wryly. Then she shrugged. “On one of those stereotypical scales, how big a number does she get where zero is indifference and the negative spectrum is dislike?”

That… was a lot of numbers to choose from. “I guess a really big one?”

“Is that a question?”

“No,” Skye decided. “She’d have to be up there in the gajillions.”

“I don’t think ‘gajillions’ is a mathematically correct term.”

“And that’s how much I like her.”

Jemma nodded decisively. “Then I stand by what I said before. As your best friend, my advice is to tell her. Or maybe ask her casually if she thinks another girl is dating material and go from there.”

That produced a strained smile from Skye but didn’t really settle the worry and fear in her gut. Actually, she didn’t think anything would ever fix that.

“And,” Jemma added, almost as an afterthought. “And if she’s a real idiot and turns you down, the first thing that should happen is you come visit _me_ and we’ll watch movies and eat ice cream and wrap ourselves up in blankets and I’ll make you feel better. Once you’re asleep I’ll hunt her down and break her.”

But that was the problem. That was the problem with the whole thing. If she was turned down… if it ended badly… she wouldn’t have a best friend to comfort her. Her mouth twisted sourly in an outward reflection of what her stomach was doing. She shuffled again as Jemma leaned forward, brow furrowed slightly with concern, hand reaching out to rest on Skye’s knee.

Skye sighed, hunching her shoulders, eyes fixed on the floor in front of her. “I can’t very well come and visit and eat ice cream and have you be reassuring and all that if… if _you’re_ the one who shot me down. Can I?”

There was an awful lot of silence in the room then. She felt her friend shift, but kept her gaze focused solely on the fascinating blue and grey weave of the carpet. That didn’t mean she wasn’t _electrically_ aware that Jemma’s hand hadn’t moved from her knee, fingers pressing a little harder into the fabric of her pyjamas than was strictly necessary.

“Please look at me?” Jemma asked.

She’d swear every way to Sunday that she didn’t _mean_ to lift her eyes to Jemma’s. It just happened. Something about the timbre of her friend’s voice, the waver, the hesitation, the question, every layer of emotion that wouldn’t be on her face was written in the lyrics of her voice and Skye knew them all. So she glanced up.

Jemma’s smile was soft and gentle and all the most tender things ever to grace the Earth with their presence. It was warmth and light and… (dare she even _think_ such a clichéd thought)… love. The corners of Jemma’s lips twitched – curled upwards – bringing out the beginnings of her winning smile and dimpled cheeks. Her brow was smooth again.

The cool air swirled in behind her hand as Jemma lifted it from Skye’s knee to sweep unruly black hair behind her ear. “I maintain,” Jemma whispered tremulously, “that you should tell her how you feel. Nothing risked… nothing gained.”

Skye’s heart did a sort of backflip and spring-boarded off her lungs to lodge – quivering – in her throat. “What?” she rasped around the stupid organ. Her stomach lining bubbled… Probably with excitement. It was stupid too.

“My advice is sound,” Jemma repeated. Amusement laced her words when it should probably have been irritation. But it wasn’t because this was Jemma and no matter how ridiculously Skye behaved, her beautiful friend never got mad. Not truly. Words said around laughter did not mean the same thing.

“Will…” Skye couldn’t quite get the words out because her heart was still clinging desperately to her windpipe. She swallowed, knocking it free and tried again. “Will you… go… out with me?”

And then this thing happened. Skye was sure it was some relation of a smile, but it didn’t really… _look_ like a smile. It looked like that bright light that precedes a mushroom cloud. So big and bright and all-encompassing and it turned Skye numb. It rendered her whole body jelly and dried up her throat, the glaring enormity of Jemma’s grin made Skye’s head ring and go blank. There was nothing but her smile and it warmed Skye from the inside out.

Then (ten seconds later) when Jemma threw her arms around Skye’s neck and pressed a kiss to her cheek, there was fall out. Normal people describe this kind of moment with words like ‘fireworks’ and ‘lightning’ but Skye couldn’t really feel anything except the burning of Jemma pressed against her (and the spot where she’d been kissed). There was no thought, no sensation, just… just Jemma. Just blinding light and heat and nothingness.

“Duh,” was her reply, muffled into the collar of Skye’s shirt. “Of course I’ll _go out_ with you.”

“But… That was really bad…” Skye protested.

Jemma laughed and that too was muffled, but buzzed through her skin and tingled through her numbness. “For all your emotional ineptitude and lack of eloquence, you’re surprisingly adorable, you know?”

Skye felt her face crumple at the word ‘adorable’. “I thought I was abrasive.”

“You are. But I also happen to think you’re pretty awesome.”

“Awesome is an adjective I can live with.”

Jemma smiled her nuclear smile and grabbed her by the lapels, leaning down until their noses touched. “So…” she whispered, filling Skye’s empty head with more flashing lights. “Now that you’ve asked me out, do I get some sort of special privileges?”

“Sure,” Skye mumbled.

With her sly smirk still in place, Jemma closed the space and with her lips brought feeling flooding back through Skye’s every fibre. And with the feeling came contentment.


End file.
